


Alone

by ljfanfiction



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 14:18:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13413066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljfanfiction/pseuds/ljfanfiction
Summary: Supply cupboard? Supply cupboard.





	Alone

There was a girl at the Overwatch HQ. You didn’t really  _know_ her—you had mutual friends, and you’d worked together a couple of times—but, _God_ , you wanted her. Whenever you crossed paths, she gave you a salute, or a wink, and every time, you... well, you _blushed_ , and she’d giggle; but the longer it went on, the less you got flustered, and the more you flirted back. You knew her call sign, of course—

 _Tracer_.

The charismatic, high spirited hero, who appeared in your fantasies as often as she saved people.

It was a slow day on base, with no emergencies to take care of, and many away on missions. As you stood on the training deck watching a friend get to grips with their new weapon, someone was watching _you_ , making their way over by blinking from corner, to corner until they were so close, you swore you saw a flash of blue.

“Psst,” sounded a voice behind you, your heart racing from the sudden appearance, and refusing to slow down when you laid eyes on its owner: _her_. “You busy?”

“Something tells me I’m about to be,” you responded hopefully, Tracer entwining her fingers with yours as she leaned in closer, and whispered, “come with me.”

Pulling you along by your hand, Tracer smiled at you as she backed up into a supply cupboard in the unoccupied med bay with you in tow, and excitedly bit her lip as the door slid shut behind you.

The tension, and electricity was high in the small space, and your whole body came alive in anticipation. You reached out to brush her hair from her face, to see it properly—see her _eyes_ , gorgeous, and brown, and unobstructed by the orange tint of her goggles—before she leant in, and kissed you, warm, and eager, both of you excited to discover what the others lips felt like; what they _tasted_ like, and you were soon caught up in each other, the kiss getting more _fervent_ , and your hands roaming. 

“I always see you around the base,” she spoke, breathless, between kisses.

“I’ve noticed,” you smiled against her lips.

“Makes my day,” she admitted, returning the smile. “Ever since I first saw you, I’ve wanted to get you alone.”

Alone. _Finally_ alone, and she wanted this as much as _you_ did. No more admiring from afar; you were going to take the bull by the horns—or her _hips_ , in this case, pushing her into the shelves that lined the walls, shifting your thigh between her legs, and holding one of them up at your hip. Tracer let out a light moan into the kiss, before pulling away with a devilish smile, and in a blink you found _yourself_ against the shelves, and _her_ thigh between yours.

She left one last lingering kiss on your lips, and began to leave them over your neck instead, your breath hitching as her mouth kissed, and licked, and sucked; as she held onto your hips, and you continued to rock against her thigh.

Once she’d managed to pull herself away from your neck, and the  _noises_ you were making, she dropped to her knees, pulling up the top of your uniform to reveal your stomach, peppering kisses over the bare skin, and teasing your navel. With her mouth busy, her hands got to work on unfastening your bottoms, before removing them—and your underwear—completely.

“Look at _you_ ,” she marvelled, her finger tracing your slit slow, gentle, and down right _teasingly_ , your hips lifting instinctively from the wall, toward her. “Not just a pretty face, are you, love?”

You whined at her praise; at her looking at you like you were her favourite dessert, keening when her tongue swept over your entrance, and collected your arousal.

“Mmm,” she grinned. “You taste as good as you look.”

 _Oh, boy_.

With her relieving your ache with every move she made, your hand reached down to bury itself in her soft, thick hair, a moan of her name escaping.

“Tracer—“

“ _Lena_ ”— _lick_ —”call me Lena,” she told you, with you proceeding to sigh out her newly-learned name. “It sounds so good when you say it.”

And it _felt_ so good when she said _anything_ against you—the way her mouth moved; the _vibrations_. You needed to feel more of _everything_ , and Lena wanted to _give_ it to you, lifting your foot onto a nearby box to prop your leg up, and give her easier access to the space between your legs. Easier access to making you _come_.

You revelled in the feeling of her warm breath fanning over you as her even warmer mouth worked you over, your hips twitching when she concentrated on your clit, and gasping when her finger began to move slowly inside you.

“Everything okay, love?” Lena checked in with you.

You could only let out an unintelligible mumble while you nodded “yes”, and she looked so _pleased_ with herself, starting to pick up the pace. She was _loving_ hearing you begging her _please_ ; telling her what you _needed_ , and she was more than happy to oblige.

As you got closer, your fingers bit into the shelf by your head (which was currently thrown back in pure _pleasure_ ,) your chest heaving as you sent gasps and heavy breaths into the air above you, the wet sounds from below reaching your ears, and making you _wetter_.

It was all getting _so much_ , from the way she _mouthed_ at you, and the pressure against your sweet spot, to the positioning of her free hand against your hip, and ass, and thigh. Heat pooled low inside you, as you tightened around her fingers, and your nails dug into her scalp in a pursuit to tether yourself to reality while you fell apart under her touch.

Feeling lightheaded, and weak at the knees, you tried to steady your breathing, your pulse, _and_ yourself as Lena helped re-dress you—she was nothing, if not a gentlewoman. She smiled at you as you attempted to fix her hair.

“Don’t worry, love. No one’ll know the difference,” she winked, weakening your knees all over again. When you held onto her shoulder to steady yourself, she cupped your face to pull you into a kiss which was softer than the others. _Slower_ , which you appreciated, considering she’d just taken a lot out of you; but tasting yourself on her tongue...

“My room next time?” You suggested, _desperate_ to see her tangled up in your sheets.

“I like the sound of that.”


End file.
